


Beautiful and Blonde

by Fallenangel87



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Boys in Skirts, Brother/Brother Incest, Child Abuse, Dancer AU, Drug Use, Drugging, Extremely Underage, Feminization, Forced Feminization, Hockstettercest, Intersex Vic, M/M, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Non-Consensual Touching, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sexual Abuse, Stalking, Underage Drinking, Vicpat
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-30 23:29:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20105395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fallenangel87/pseuds/Fallenangel87
Summary: Moodboard done by dadbod2016richie (please check her out on Tumblr if you like her work <3)





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moodboard done by dadbod2016richie (please check her out on Tumblr if you like her work <3)

<https://underratedcharactersandships.tumblr.com/post/186776954280/victor-criss-x-patrick-hocksetter-bw-moodboard>

A lot of people take up hobbies to forget about their own problems, to feel less broken inside, less like an empty shell of the person they used to know. Victor Criss was definitely one of those people, one of the people who just wanted a distraction from how much it hurt on the inside. He was raised by a crazy mother who saw him as nothing more than some weird extension of herself and a father who hated him for that. Of course, he needed some way to distract himself from that. Vic's mother was a cruel woman, but he knew she didn't mean to be. She was just the stereotypical ex-beauty queen who was now past her prime. She had always wanted a daughter, a little princess that she could enter into beauty pageants just like she had when she was a child and be able to live vicariously through her in turn, making her feel like she was a young woman once again like so many mothers did.

Unfortunately, she only had a son and she had just refused to accept that from the very moment he was born. Instead, she simply pretended that she had the daughter that she had always wanted. She primped his hair and did his makeup for him every day, showering him in mascara and eyeliner, even going so far as to add lipstick and eyeshadow for him at times. Vic didn’t mind that so much. Sure, he didn’t enjoy the lipstick that made his lips feel too stiff or even the thick mascara that clumped and made his eyes look like spiders. The makeup wasn’t awful, though, some of it actually looked rather nice on him. What he did mind were the names that she always called him, even in front of other people. His mother always called him Vicki and he just took it. He never said no to his mother’s treatment, never rejected how she manicured his nails or the way she dressed him up, never asked her to stop calling him princess and a pretty boy.

Instead, he just endured all of that and he took the even worse names that his father called him. Vic took the way his father looked at him and the way he shoved him around due to his femininity. It was hard on a kid, never being able to please his parents. If he was more feminine then his father would be upset with him and ridicule him for his looks, but his mother would get upset if he acted or looked more masculine. Not once did either ever ask him what he wanted, truth be told, he wanted to be able to be a good mix of both femininity and masculinity. That wasn’t going to make either of them happy, though, he was very aware of that. Even his hobbies were an attempt to try and appease both his mother and his father’s wishes for him. His father wanted him to take up something athletic and his mother wanted him to be involved in something pretty, so he chose to try his hand at dancing.

Vic was amazing at what he did too, plenty of people commented on how graceful he was when he was dancing. He took pride in his work and put all of his heart into being a good dancer. As talented as he was, he wasn’t anything special, he knew that well enough. He got attention from other people, but it wasn’t anything too great for him. There just wasn’t that high of a demand for broken-hearted dancers who smoked like a chimney in their free time, perhaps because his dance troupe was overrun with people who fit that description. However, the attention wasn’t what mattered to Vic, all that mattered was that it was something that meant he wasn’t at home that often. He got to be out of the house for at least a couple of hours each day he went to practice. His mind was filled with something other than just his parents being totally disappointed in him all the time, regardless of how hard he tried to make them happy.


	2. Chapter 2

Different things were interesting for different people, depending on their interests. Some found insects to be fascinating and others found sports games to be riveting, but almost everyone could say that they found something to be entertaining. Patrick didn't find many things interesting, though. Sure, dissecting animals kept him entertained and everyone knew he found fire to be one of the most interesting things in the world. Fire was the most interesting thing until he noticed a new dancer showing up at the studio that was across the street from the coffee shop he frequented. 

He was a small boy with bleached hair and dark bags beneath his eyes. Patrick spent the next few weeks learning everything he could about the boy when he came and left. He noticed how the boy never spoke to anyone else and how he sometimes picked up an iced coffee after he danced. His eyes were the prettiest shade of brown that Patrick had ever seen and never stayed in one spot for too long. Despite the roots of his hair never being given time to show, Patrick knew the boy’s hair wasn’t naturally blonde. Eventually, Patrick even learned the pathway back to the boy’s house. 

It was a nice house, two stories high and an off-white color that expanded for what seemed like forever both ways. The grass was always mown down perfectly with meticulously trimmed hedges and a tree that led straight up to Vic’s bedroom window. He learned that Vic went to bed at nine o’clock every night and that he could see the boy in the bathroom each night if he stood in the edge of the trees that surrounded the back of Vic’s house. The boy was absolutely intriguing to him and Patrick made sure to be outside of the coffee shop every day he was there. He would watch the boy when he came out for smoke breaks, sitting outside of the coffee shop with a cup in his hand, doing his best to blend in with the rest of the people flocked around the shop. 

This blonde haired boy was so pretty, easily one of the most beautiful creatures Patrick had ever seen. Patrick admired him from afar day after day, watching how he acted with other people around. He kept to himself and spent most of his time on his own with a pair of white earbuds stuck in his ears. He truly acted like the perfect prey for any predator that might take interest in him and Patrick was definitely interested. He kept to himself and took the exact same path each day, he stayed on the same schedule and always had his earbuds to block out the rest of the world. This boy was so predictable, all by himself, and willingly took away one of his senses.

Patrick didn’t think it was right for God to curse someone to be so pretty and so oblivious to everything going on around them, but he figured both those traits worked in his favor, so who was he to complain about it? When life drops such a beautiful little thing in his lap, ripe and free for the taking, he chose not to question such a generous offer. The day he showed up with a dark bruise blooming over his right cheekbone, Patrick was especially thrilled because everything was clicking into place. Of course, the boy was so reserved. Of course, he spent so long here. Of course, he didn’t have enough care for his body to not poison it with cigarettes. Someone was hurting the boy and the feeling that Patrick couldn’t explain was the anger swelling inside his own chest.

Someone had hurt the person that was supposed to be his. They had never met technically, but Vic was his and somebody else had dared to lay their hands on him. It made his work with this boy easier because he knew Vic’s type all too well, the shy and quiet type until someone paid them any sort of positive attention. Saying or doing the right thing could mean he would win Vic’s trust over easily. He already knew it would be mind-blowing once he got Vic to that point, the point where he could say or do anything and Vic would stay with him all because of the way Patrick gave him a seemingly genuine look of adoration. He could play the sweet card for as long as he needed to if he just kept his prize in mind, he could play nice and convince Vic that he really liked him. That he was just there to help Vic and never let anyone hurt him. Oh, it would be perfect. 


	3. Chapter 3

There was very little variation when Vic went dancing, the most that ever happened was if he saw a dog being walked or went to get a coffee. Most days were pretty planned out, he followed a specific routine. That was until August finally rolled around, a rainy day that had Vic pulling his hood up to avoid wetting his cigarette too much when he went out for his smoke break. When his second break finally came around, something different happened. There was a tall man creeping towards him with his own hood up around his head. Of course, Vic had noticed the man watching him a few times before, but he had never been approached. Vic was fine with just watching the odd man from afar, but then the brunette was walking towards him and Vic tensed up, though he stayed firmly planted and waited to be addressed. 

“Hey, pretty boy, you got a light?” The man smiled, a smile that left an unsettled feeling in Vic’s chest, the man was tilting his head at him. The look on the man’s face looked like a hyena before it attacked, but Vic simply scoffed at him in response. 

“No, I lit this thing with fucking magic.” Vic huffed out and dug into his pocket, clawing out his lighter after a moment and he held it out hesitantly to the other man. Patrick gave him an appreciative smile, letting his fingers stroke over Vic’s as he pulled the lighter from his hand. 

“Feisty little thing. Got a name, pretty eyes?” He asked as he began trying to light his cigarette, cupping his hand around it and trying a few times to get it to light, though it was difficult through the misty rain that was filling the street. 

“Yeah, you can call me Vic. Everyone does.” Vic shrugged, taking a long drag of his cigarette as he stared at the man. Patrick flashed an even brighter smile at this and gave a nod of his head, surprised the boy was even talking to him in the first place. 

“So, your name is as pretty as your face.” Vic scoffed softly but allowed himself to laugh at the comment. This wasn’t the first time he had been approached by someone trying to chat him up. These were normal comments that people made about him. They were just generic lines, he didn’t even bother responding anymore. Patrick wasn’t like all of the others, though, Patrick was attractive and left a frightening feeling coursing through Vic. That feeling was being combated by his own morbid curiosity about the taller teenager.

“You’re a dancer, huh? You looked pretty good in there, I’ve seen you a few times.” Patrick explained, smiling softer at Vic as he boxed him in closer to the wall, smirking down at him. Vic looked up at him and tilted his head, backing away from the man slowly, but the warmth of the other’s body pressing towards him didn’t feel nearly as scary as Vic thought it probably should. 

“Yeah? You watch me a lot?” Vic asked indignantly, tilting his head further at the strange man who was getting too close. He knew he was good, but the compliment from this man had his cheeks burning and he just hoped the color didn’t show on them. 

“It’s normal for humans to watch things they find beautiful. You look really sweet out there, pretty eyes.” Patrick laughed softly, thinking this boy was even more intriguing. He was interested when he seemed so timid and he was intriguing now as he acted so snarky towards a stranger, a stranger who was currently towering over him.

“Well, looks can be deceiving.” Vic hummed out with a soft smile, a smile that wasn’t quite kind, but not as snarky as it had been. He didn’t have time to let Patrick reply before the studio door was being opened and a small red-haired girl walked out, glaring at Patrick. 

“Vic, we’re starting back!” She huffed out to them, staring at Patrick. Patrick just grinned at her and turned his attention back to Vic, gripping his wrist in one hand to keep him still and where he was. He figured it would be rude to let the boy walk away without even knowing his name, besides that was what he approached him for in the first place. The first step in getting with Vic was actually meeting the boy. 

“My name’s Patrick, by the way.” He introduced, his smirk growing bigger when Vic pulled away and put his own cigarette out against the wall, twisting it a few times and letting it fall to the rainy sidewalk. Vic gave him a soft smile and a pat on the shoulder when he pulled away from the wall, pushing past the taller man. 

“I’ll see you around, Patrick.” Vic laughed as he headed back inside, glancing back at him one last time before he made it into the studio. The little girl let the door slam behind her and Patrick tilted his head against the wall. Vic certainly would see him around. 


End file.
